Camelot Coffees
by Icognito DeMimsy
Summary: Merlin thinks he's just an ordinary college student working at his best friend's coffeeshop, until one day when he literally runs into one of his customers, setting off a flood of confusing memories that only further complicate he and his friends' already increasingly entangled lives.
1. Chapter 1

Merlin arrived at the shop at six, determined to have beaten Gwen at last, only to find her already outside updating the chalk menu.

"How are you even possible?" he called, stepping up onto the sidewalk. "When do you get up in the morning?"

"You're here early," was all she said in response, rising to hug him. "Your shift doesn't start for another half hour."

"I was going to surprise you," Merlin said, throwing his arms around her. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, please, Merlin, don't make any fuss over me," she laughed. "It's not that important."

"It's extremely important. Something smells amazing. What is it?"

"Percy's making cinnamon rolls," Gwen said, flipping the sign around to Open. "Don't eat any until your break."

"I don't know if I can hold out that long," he grinned. Gwen rolled her eyes. The bell over the door rang, signalling the entrance of their first customer.

It wasn't long before the regulars began to trickle in, and then the trickle turned into the flood of the morning rush. Merlin managed to steal into the kitchen on the pretense of restocking the cinnamon buns.

"Is it all done?" he asked Percival, who nodded.

"Top shelf. Don't eat any!"

Merlin sighed as he opened the cabinet. "You know, I am capable of looking at a baked good without shoving it in my mouth."

"I think after the cream puff incident, a little caution is warranted," Percival said, taking a tray of cupcakes out of the oven.

The smell of the cake hit him before he even saw it, warm sugar and vanilla. It was frosted a light lavender with roses around the rim. "Perfect," he said. Percival smiled.

"Merlin," Gwen called from outside. "We need more coffee."

"Right. Coming," he called, grabbing the pot and a tray of cinnamon buns. He balanced it precariously as he backed out the door, swung around, and crashed into the tall blond boy right outside the door. Coffee flew everywhere, soaking the boy's neatly pressed shirt and drenching the hem of Merlin's trousers.

"I am so sorry," Merlin gasped. Gwen looked up from where she was chatting with a pretty brunette over the counter and grabbed a towel from under the counter.

"It's fine," the boy grunted as Merlin began to dab at him with the rag Gwen had passed him. "I can do it."

"Coffee's on us, anyway," Merlin said, ineffectually swishing the rag against the boy's chest. He knew now was definitely _not_ the time, but he couldn't help but admire the firm muscles the wet shirt was showing off.

"Look's to me like its on Arthur," the brunette at the counter said. "Let him pay. You got his shirt, not his wallet, and I told him not to stand right by the kitchen."

"Morgana," the boy growled.

"What? It's fine," she said, smiling winningly at Merlin.

"How am I supposed to go to work?" the boy- Arthur- said, not looking at Merlin. Merlin felt slightly insulted. Yes, he had just crashed into him with a pot of hot coffee, but it wasn't like the boy was the only victim. Merlin could feel the warm coffee seeping into his socks.

"I know for a fact Leon keeps an extra suit in his office. Right?" the girl said calmly, clearly unphased by the boy's anger.

Another boy popped up from behind her head, nodding. Clearly, he had ducked behind her to hide his laughter. His face was bright red.

"Shut up, Leon," Arthur grumbled. He grabbed the rag from Merlin. "I can do it."

Leon ducked behind Morgana again, overcome with giggles.

"We have to go," Arthur said. "Here."

He shoved the rag back at Merlin. "Sorry," Merlin called weakly as the boy stormed out.

His friends were still laughing at the counter. "Here," the girl said, pulling a ten-pound note out of her wallet and shoving it in the tip jar. "That is for the most entertaining breakfast I've had in a while."

Gwen smiled but looked worried. "Apologize again for us, please," she said.

"Oh, its nothing, really. Arthur's very egotistical," Morgana smiled. "Nothing was harmed but his pride, and that he could definitely do with a little less of."

"Thank you," Gwen said.

"Thank _you_," Morgana said, a twinkle in her eye. "See you soon." She grabbed Leon's arm and pulled him out of the shop.

Gwen turned to see Merlin sitting on the counter, pulling off his dripping wet socks. "Merlin," she said.

"I know, I'm sorry."

She turned, disapproving, but a slight smile was lifting the corners of her mouth.

"He was cute, anyway," she said after a few seconds, swirling whipped cream on top of a hot chocolate.

"He was an ass," Melin said. "Do you have an extra pair of shoes?"

Gwen laughed. "In the backroom. Percival left some flipflops a while ago."

* * *

To Morgana and Leon's credit, they lasted a good two minutes in terse, breathless silence once in the car.

Finally, Arthur sighed. "Go ahead."

If he was impressed with how long they'd held it in, he was even more impressed by the sheer force with which they exploded into laughter.

"Your face!" Morgana wheezed. "I thought you were going to kill him!"

Arthur gritted his teeth and turned into the parking lot. "I'm never giving you a ride again."

Morgana smirked. "What, you're just going to leave me alone in your apartment?"

"How long until your next term starts again?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she laughed.

"Always," Arthur growled. "Try not to embarrass me."

"You mean, more than the coffee stains will?"

Leon burst out laughing again.

"That boy was cute," Morgana said, flipping down the passenger side mirror. "You should have asked for his number."

"Morgana," Arthur sighed.

"I should have asked for his number for you."

"Please don't do this," Arthur said. He turned off the car and looked over at his sister, delicately filling in her lips with red.

"Come on, Arthur," she said, smacking her lips and folding up the mirror. "What was the point of coming out to me if not so I could help you get dates?"

"The point of coming out to you was to get you to stop helping me find dates!"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Leon agrees with me."

Leon looked up, concerned. "I am not taking sides."

"But if you were, you'd be on mine, right?" Morgana said, pouting pleadingly.

"Let's go," Leon said, with good reason. Nobody ever wanted to be stuck in a war between the Pendragon siblings.

"Couldn't agree more," Arthur said. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. With a wink at Leon, Morgana followed him.

* * *

By the time three o'clock rolled around, business had slowed. Gwen was reading with her feet up on the counter. Merlin and Percival were taking a break to enjoy Percy's cinnamon rolls. The sound of the bell chiming made them all look up, expecting Mordred for his shift any minute. Instead, a slight but muscular boy strutted into the shop. He strolled up to where Gwen sat, eyebrows raised, waiting.

"I got you a flower," he said, offering her a lavender bloom.

"Very sweet, Gawaine," Gwen said. "You picked it outside from our flower box. I planted these, do you honestly expect me to fall for that?"

"The point is that I was thinking about you."

"Uh-huh," Gwen said, grinning. "What can I get you?"

"Just a plain black coffee with your number written on it."

"Smooth, really," Gwen said, heading off to make it. Gawaine shrugged and turned to Merlin.

"How bout you, pretty boy?" he said, sliding in next to Merlin. "Why aren't you wearing shoes?"

"Its a long story," Merlin said, grimacing. "Percival has really big feet."

Gawaine winked at Percival.

"Gawaine," Gwen mock-snapped. "Stop flirting with my staff."

"I didn't miss the cake, did I?" Gawaine murmured.

"Nope. Mordred and Lancelot still aren't here."

"Excellent. Wait, they aren't still dating, are they?"

"Who, Gwen and Lancelot?" Merlin asked.

"Yeah," Gawaine said, leaning back.

"No, they broke up a little while ago."

"And you and Lancelot are over, right?" Gawaine said. Merlin blushed slightly.

"Yes."

"Whew. That man sure gets around. Respect," Gawaine said. The bell chimed again and Mordred darted into the shop.

"Am I late? I feel late," he said, running behind the counter and pulling on an apron.

Gwen laughed slightly. "No, you're just on time, sweetie. Early, actually. You and Merlin both. I've never seen you two so excited to get to work."

Mordred stared at Merlin, who subtly shook his head. "I- I think my clock in my car is fast," Mordred said finally. "Happy birthday," he added, kissing Gwen on the cheek.

"Thank you, dear," she said, pushing Gawaine's coffee over the counter towards him.

The bell sang out again and Lancelot walked into the shop. Gwen looked suddenly flustered. "Lancelot," she said. "What are you doing here?"

Lancelot looked over at Merlin. "Just- stopping by."

Merlin kicked Percival under the table. "Kitchen!" Percival shouted. Everyone jumped.

"What?" Gwen said, looking concerned.

"I think I left something in the oven," Percival said. "Give me a sec."

Gwen looked around suspiciously. "You're up to something, Merlin."

"Why me?" Merlin sputtered. "Mordred's much more suspicious than I am."

"What?" Mordred said, looking up from the coffee pot he was cleaning.

Seeing the party beginning to deteriorate before it had even begun, Merlin waved at Lancelot. "Get the lights!" he hissed.

Lancelot flicked the switch and Percival came in from the kitchens, holding Gwen's cake. Gwen's mouth fell open. "Boys," she gasped.

They sang a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday and managed to serve most of the cake before a customer came in and was caught up in the frolic. They sent him off with a slice of free cake and a vanilla latte.

Finally, they had partied themselves out. Lancelot fell asleep on one of the couches and Gawaine pulled out his laptop. Mordred, Merlin and Gwen returned to behind the counter.

"Merlin," Mordred said, looking thoroughly bewildered, "Why aren't you wearing shoes?

"Um," Merlin said. "It's a long story."

"Merlin made an ass of himself," Percival said, heading back into the kitchens.

"So I gather," Mordred said.

"I ran into a customer today. Literally. With a pot of hot coffee," Merlin explained.

"Ooh," Mordred winced.

"He was cute, though," Gwen teased. "Sure you didn't bump into him on purpose?"

"You keep saying that," Merlin said.

"It's true. Maybe you'll see him again, Merlin. Maybe its destiny," she laughed.

"Ha ha," Merlin said. "I don't want to see him again. He was rude."

"Well, you did spill coffee on him," Mordred said.

Merlin glared at him. "He was standing in a very inconvenient spot," he said.

"Sure," Mordred said. "Whatever. I have homework to do."

"How's school?" Gwen asked, washing out the blenders.

"Fine," Mordred said. "For high school, I mean."

The bell dinged and Merlin headed for the counter to take the customer's order. He could hear the laughter of his friends behind him as he poured a cup of coffee and wrapped up a donut to go. Something was different. It wasn't something he could place, just a vague feeling. _Something's beginning, _he thought. He didn't know what it was, or even why he thought that, but for some reason it made him happier than he could remember being in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for reading!**

**I just wanted to let everyone know not to expect any frequent updates until after May 14th (my last AP exam!) cause I won't have as much time to type stuff while I'm studying. But never fear! I have not forgotten it or anything and I plan to update it as soon as possible.**

Leon gave Arthur a new shirt, and the day proceeded without incident. Arthur filed papers, carried messages, and got coffee for his bosses, and definitely didn't think about the boy from this morning at all. A little after noon he managed to have enough time to sit back and begin work on some reading he'd been meaning to catch up on for school.

Not even ten minutes later he was ready to give up. His eyes kept playing tricks on him, reading words that didn't exist, turning "rights" into "knights" and generally not being able to focus.

A knock on the door jolted him out of his paper. It was Morgana.

"Hey. Want to grab a bite to eat before we head home?"

"No," Arthur said flatly, returning to his paper.

She sighed heavily. "Why not?"

"One, I'm working, and two, its not nearly time to go yet."

Morgana looked down at her watch. "It's six thirty."

"What? No, it can't be."

Now Morgana looked concerned. "What are you reading?" she asked, grabbing the paper from his desk. "Securities and Regulations. Boring. Let's go."

"It was just one o'clock. How can it be six already?"

"Maybe you fell asleep," she suggested gently. "I would too if I was reading that stuff."

"Right, because twelve page proofs for equations are so interesting," Arthur retorted, mostly out of habit. How had five hours passed without his noticing?

Morgana's phone beeped. She pulled it out from the pocket of her camera bag. "It's your father. He wants us to come by for dinner."

"That's... ominous," Arthur said.

"Mmm," Morgana agreed. "Maybe he's engaged again."

Arthur rolled his eyes and started to pack up, still perturbed. Morgana was probably right, he had probably fallen asleep- but he didn't feel tired at all.

"Maybe I shouldn't go to dinner," he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "I think I might be sick."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're in the prime of health. Don't leave me at dinner alone."

"It's not that bad."

"Of course it is! He's in the middle of an election, Arthur. I can't be alone with him, really."

Arthur sighed. "Fine. But if I am sick, you'll regret it, I assure you."

"Oh, please," Morgana said. "How could you possibly embarrass yourself more than you already have today?"

Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance and followed her out. "It wasn't like I spilled coffee on myself," he complained. "It was spilled on me by someone else."

Morgana just smiled devilishly up at him and Arthur felt a sudden swoop of something almost like dread in his stomach. It must have been a trick of the light, but as she had turned, Arthur could have sworn Morgana's eyes had gleamed gold.

* * *

Merlin was fairly certain he was going crazy. He had been seeing things all day. A man had reached into his pocket to pay and Merlin had lept back, certain he had a sword strapped to his belt. Percival was throwing bags of flour over his shoulder and the bag became the body of a man wielding an axe. Mordred took off his coat and it swirled around him like a cloak or maybe wings. The armchair Gwen fell into at the end of her shift became a throne.

To top it all off, he couldn't stop thinking about the boy from yesterday, wondering who he was, what he was doing, if he'd ever see him again. Merlin didn't want to be thinking about him- he certainly had more than enough on his mind as it was- but it didn't feel like just another crush to him. Merlin had already done the whole heart-fluttering, god-he's-dreamy thing with Lancelot, and this was nothing like that. It was more like he knew him from somewhere, a movie or a magazine cover, and couldn't place where.

Well, maybe it was a little bit of the heart-fluttery type obsession as well, Merlin had to admit to himself. He had been cute. More than cute, if Merlin was really being honest. But it was no use dwelling on him. He was gone. Merlin was never going to see him again, and-

_A boat was sailing down the river towards the tiny island, and tears were pouring down his face like never before, and-_

"Merlin," Gwen said. "Did you get contacts?"

A high pitched whine was droning in Merlin's ears. "What?" he gasped.

"No," she said, looking concerned. "Nevermind. I thought your eyes had turned god for a moment. Are you feeling alright?"

The whining wasn't in his ears, it was in his head. He couldn't breathe. Gwen was looking at him in concern, and a golden diadem was glittering on her head, and Mordred stood behind her in black armor as the boat grew smaller and smaller and-

"Hi."

Merlin blinked, then stared, dumbstruck. It was the boy from yesterday. Some back part of his brain realized that the whine had disappeared. He felt almost normal, except for the sudden increase in heart rate, but Merlin attributed that more to the blue of the boy's eyes than his own mental breakdown.

"Hi," Merlin said.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

"You're not going to spill something on me again, are you?" the boy asked finally.

Merlin held up his hands, showing off their emptiness. "Nope."

"Good," the boy said. He looked distracted.

"Can I get you anything?" Merlin asked finally.

"Right. Yes. I'll take a large black coffee, an iced green tea, and a caramel-vanilla latte." The boy's nose wrinkled slightly on the last order, as though he couldn't stand the thought of saying them. Merlin tried very hard not to be swayed by it.

"Coming right up," Merlin said. He turned to fill the order. He could feel the boy's eyes on him as he poured the coffee and tea.

"Do I know you?" the boy asked.

"I don't think so," Merlin said, without looking up from the register.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Merlin."

The boy nodded. "Nice to meet you, Merlin. I'm Arthur."

Merlin finished ringing up the drinks and looked up. "Nice to meet you, Arthur. That'll be eleven fifty."

Arthur handed over the money, still slightly lost looking. His hand grazed Merlin's as he passed over the bills, and Merlin felt an electric shock run up his arm. For a moment, Merlin was no longer in the coffee shop- he was in a forest clearing, and Arthur stood in front of him, all dressed in shining armor and holding a golden sword- and then he was back. His hands shook slightly as he made change and dropped it into Arthur's hand, carefully avoiding touching him. With one last pondering look, Arthur took his coffee and left.

Still shaking, Merlin turned to Gwen. "Cover for me?" he murmured.

She nodded, a look of motherly concern in her eyes. "Have Percy make you something. You look pale."

He nodded, stumbling back towards the kitchen. What was happening to him? Was he going crazy?

_No_, he thought he heard a voice murmur. He turned to look around, but saw no one.

That really shouldn't have reassured him, he knew, but something about the voice made him stand a little straighter as he retreated into the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

"Green tea for Morgana, caffeinated sugar for Morgana," Arthur said, placing the cups down carefully on the table before throwing himself into his seat. Arthur rarely did anything gently, Morgana mused. Carefully, precisely, even, but not gently. She watched her adopted brother sink, or maybe _sprawl _was more appropriate, into his chair. He lounged in a way that Morgana was intimately familiar with, the almost subconscious occupation of space those born with wealth and power naturally fell into. Morgana herself, up until a few years ago, had taken up that same space, confident in the power of being Uther Pendragon's adopted daughter. But as her security in that power had weakened, she had begun to draw the space tighter around herself. She now sat tightly, every muscle coiled, afraid, even in times like these, where she knew she no longer had anything to hide.

"It's a latte," Leon said affrontedly, taking his drink from the table and sipping it.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's melted coffee ice cream." He leaned towards his sister, his voice dropping low. "Does that boy seem familiar to you?" he asked.

Morgana followed the jerk of his head to the boy walking towards the kitchen. "Yes, he spilled coffee on you yesterday," she said distractedly.

"That's not what I mean."

Morgana sighed and really focused. He looked skinny, and his ears were ridiculous, but he was handsome in a fey, celtic sort of way. Still, nothing about him seemed unusual, except the precision of the eyeliner making his blue eyes pop. "Maybe you've seen him here before."

"I've never been here before yesterday," Arthur said quietly. Morgana looked at him, slightly concerned. Arthur didn't look ill, exactly, but he did look- preoccupied, as if he was only partly there.

"Well, we'll certainly be coming back," Leon said before Morgana could speak. "Their coffee is delicious."

Arthur opened his mouth, no doubt to say something snarky about a latte once more. Morgana cut him off swiftly. "It's quite quaint, really. Homey."

Arthur looked around. "It doesn't seem- familiar- to you at all?"

Morgana shook her head. In fact, the little coffee shop seemed quite unlike most she'd been in. All the tables were round, and arranged in circles around the one largest table in the shop, big enough to fit eight people at least. One wall was entirely old grey brick. Several canvas paintings hung from it. Morgana thought they looked almost tapestry-like. The other wall was occupied by a precarious looking bookshelf with a handwritten sign that said "Take a book, Leave a book." While most coffee shops tried to give off a lemon-colored vibe of efficiency and modern convenience, this one seemed to luxuriate in its cluttered and old feeling. It seemed almost medieval in a way.

"What time is Uther expecting us?" she asked, trying not to let the stiffness creep into her voice and failing.

Arthur looked over at her, the confusion in his blue eyes clearly showing that he hadn't heard a word of what she'd said. "What?"

A smile crept over Morgana's face. "What're you staring at?" she asked, a laugh peeking through the words and giving her sentence a melodic sound.

"Nothing," Arthur said, a little too defensively. Morgana's face broke into a beam.

"You were staring at that boy, weren't you?"

"No."

"You're blushing!"

"I swear to god, Morgana, I'm going to kill you."

Morgana laughed. "Don't be such a baby, Arthur. Do you like him?"

"I don't even know him," Arthur protested.

"Would you like to?"

"No!"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. "I want one of those cupcakes. I'll be right back."

"You'll ruin your dinner," Arthur called behind her as she sauntered up to the counter. "Morgana! You know he hates it when you don't eat anything."

She silenced her brother with a wave of her hand and hopped in line behind two others.

What Arthur didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she reasoned, and it might in fact help him more than he knew. After all, he'd never heard about her kissing his high school girlfriend, but he'd seemed relieved enough when she dumped him. This was just more of the same. She was just looking out for him.

And if looking out for him helped take some of the heat of Uther's fury off her, well, she certainly wasn't going to complain. Not that she wanted Uther to disown Arthur or anything, but she was tired, so very, very tired of fighting this war alone.

"Next!" The girl behind the counter called. Morgana smiled her most charming smile. "What can I do for you?" the girl asked.

"I'll take one of those cupcakes on the bottom shelf," Morgana said. Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "What's the name of the boy who just went into the kitchens?"

"Who, Merlin?" the girl said. "I wouldn't waste my time on him, sweetie. You're not exactly his type."

Morgana laughed. "Oh, that's fine. He's not my type either. No, I'm asking for my brother, the clean-shaven blonde over there."

The girl looked over at Arthur and nodded appreciatively. With a proprietary and utterly platonic pride, Morgana saw that the sunlight was hitting Arthur perfectly at that moment, turning his hair to gold and his eyes to sapphires.

"Of course, he'd kill me if he ever found out I was talking to you about this, so-" she lowered her voice to a confidential murmur. "don't say anything, alright?"

Morgana was good at this, she knew, talking to people, getting them to drop their guards. She had learned the tricks of smiling prettily and winning favors from people as a young girl. Of course, men were most susceptible to her charms, to her great displeasure, but they still worked on most women if played right.

"I wouldn't dream of it," the girl said, smiling.

Morgana felt a tiny flutter in her stomach. The girl was dressed simply, in a plain lavender frock decorated with little flowers. Her dark curls framed her face in a faux bob. Everything about her seemed plain, comfortable, and somehow familiar, like an old childhood toy suddenly rediscovered at the bottom of a box. For the first time in a long time, Morgana felt relaxed, almost safe, basking in the glow of that smile. She was beautiful, Morgana realized.

Setting up Arthur could wait, she decided. It wasn't like he'd ever appreciated her efforts before.

"I'm Morgana, by the way," she said. "You are?"

"Gwen," the girl said, smiling that impossibly warm smile once more.

"Pleased to meet you, Gwen," Morgana said. "I have a feeling we're going to get along splendidly."


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had a theory that the reason his father insisted on using good china when he and Morgana came to dinner was partly in order to cover up the silence they sat in. The gentle chinking of metal hitting plates seemed to mock the playful conversations they should have been having. It was Arthur's second time eating at his father's this week. Uther seemed to be under the impression that if he left Morgana and Arthur alone together, out of his range of influence, they would either starve to death, kill each other, or start some sort of terrorist organization. Not, he thought, looking over at his adopted sister, who was stabbing at her food with a vengeance, that those fears were entirely unfounded.

"So," Uther said, sawing off a piece of his steak. "How are you enjoying your summer?"

Morgana opened her mouth to speak, but Arthur, sensing trouble, cut her off.

"It's been fine," he said, refusing to meet Morgana's glare. She was still seething from a blistering argument between her and Uther about her plans for the summer. After months of slammed doors, raised voices, and empty threats, Uther had finally consented last year to let Morgana major in photography as well as her more practical math major, but her artistic pursuits were still a major source of friction in the family. Uther saw her interest in photography as just another form of rebellion, a view strengthened when she attempted to intern at the notoriously liberal studio The Druid Camp. Its impressive photography credentials aside, the studio was largely acknowledged as a front for a group of liberal activists who defied everything Uther and his company were out to eradicate. Uther had forbade Morgana from working there this summer. The ensuing fight had resulted in Arthur getting a new flatmate. Uther and Morgana had barely spoken since. She had found excuses to avoid Uther's dinner- a party, a lecture, an "oh-tell-him-anything-Arthur-I-just-don't-want-to-go"- and Uther had been content, for the most part, to let her avoid him. Until now.

"I spoke to Anis again today," Uther said. "Did you ever call her son up, Morgana?"

Arthur gritted his teeth. Morgana rolled her eyes. Arthur grabbed the bottle of wine from the center of the table and poured about half of it into his wineglass.

"No, I didn't," Morgana said coolly.

Uther lay down his fork and knife, carefully, precisely. "Why not?"

"I'm not interested," Morgana said through tight lips.

Arthur emptied the rest of the bottle into his glass.

"He's a very nice boy," Uther said. "He's majoring in engineering at Oxford right now. He volunteers for that charity you like. The homeless one."

"He sounds like a lovely person. Unfortunately, he's just not my type," Morgana said.

"How would you know?"

"Because he's not a _girl_, Uther."

Uther banged his fist down on the table, startling Arthur, who nearly spilled his absurdly full wineglass down his front. "Morgana!" he barked. "I have had just about enough of this pointless rebellion-"

"Rebellion? It's who I am, Uther-"

"And I refuse to tolerate it any longer."

"Right, god forbid you tolerate something. You might be mistaken for a decent human being."

Uther's jaw worked as he glared across the table at Morgana. "I don't need a lecture on morality from the child I took in out of the goodness of my heart," he growled.

"If I don't lecture you on morality, who's going to?" she snapped. "You don't listen, and you refuse to learn-"

"Morgana-"

"I'm not going to sit back and let you continue down your ignorant, self absorbed-"

"Silence!" Uther yelled. Morgana stopped speaking. Her lips were pulled together in a tight pout. She looked murderous. "That's enough," Uther said. Arthur could hear the strain of not yelling in his voice. "I will not be spoken to like this."

Morgana glared at him, her eyes deadened with hate. "Then you'll not be spoken to at all." She stood. "I'm leaving, Arthur. I'll see you at home." With that, she stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind her. Uther and Arthur were left in silence.

"Tell me," his father said. "Am I unreasonable?"

A thousand answers came to Arthur's mind. He wanted to tell him that yes, he was being unreasonable, that Morgana was not rebelling but being braver than he, Arthur, had ever been able to, that being gay was a gene, a gene he and Morgana had in common, it seemed. He wanted to tell him the real reason he'd broken up with the parade of pretty blondes Uther had been setting him up with since high school. He wanted to stand up and follow Morgana out of the room, to see the way her face would light up when he tossed her the keys and promised to get her into any club she wanted, just drive us somewhere that isn't here. He wanted to tell his father how much he hated his new job, and how he couldn't stop thinking about the boy Merlin's fingers against his chest- but instead he just took a long sip of wine and shrugged.

Morgana was the brave one, he thought, more like Uther than Arthur, his biological son, had ever been. But he was his father's son, and for that reason he sat in his chair and said nothing.


End file.
